An Ode on Dhaka Team
Habibul Bashar and his gang with swords
Swaying with a force,
In the la la capitial of the land
With their drums and band.
The land of cultures, education, charisma, traffic jam and slums
Becomes so often the bloody battleground of the begums.
Now it is a time for cold and cricket
So everyone hunkers down with a blanket.
I still feel proud, I still feel happy
When I recollect those golden days in my memory.
It was a constant strife in Dhaka but I was happy and joyous
Now I have everything in the paradise, but life is vicious.
I will not be there on the cricket ground
But once I was there, now no trace can be found
Because the wave of time has buried
But in my memory, it will be cherished.